J and I were talking the other day about how we are both tired of drinking plain water, but I don’t want soda in the house because I’ll drink it.
We talked about juice, and the pros and cons of different flavors. I told him that I thought my dad had a cranberry orange juice before, and I wasn’t sure if I liked it. I thought I would like a cranberry orange, but not an orange cranberry. He didn’t get the difference, so I tried to explain it to him.
“I like cranberry orange muffins, so I think I would like a cran orange juice…because it would be cranberry with a hint of orange. I don’t think I would like an orange cran because, well…because that would be a Crayola!”
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Important letter
Dear Freshman,
Contrary to popular belief, I AM the one in charge. That means when I open my mouth to speak, you close yours. When I tell you to do something, you do it. When the bell rings, you put away your cell phone and your iPod, and you do NOT take it out again until the next bell rings. Don't touch each other. If it's not yours, don't take it. If you borrow something, for pete's sake, return it in the same condition you got it, don't break it intentionally. If you choose to goof off and don't get your work done, don't come complaining to me; I'm not your mommy. If you make a mess, you clean it up. I'm not your maid.
I dismiss you, not the bell. That means you don't pack up your bags and stand by the door five minutes early. Because, no, you can not leave early. Frankly, I don't care that the teacher across the hall lets his class go early almost every day. Face it, those kids have a cooler teacher than you do. I'm okay with it, you should be too.
This is English class. You're going to read, whether you like it or not. You are in 9th grade, now, and you have graduated from Dr. Seuss and Goosebumps. It's time to read "big girl / boy" books. I promise you that reading will not kill you. It may hurt your brain a bit at first, but all muscles get sore when you exercise them after long periods of not using them. Read a bit more, and I bet it'll quit hurting. Using your brain is the only way to get smarter. Consider the reading I assign exercise.
By the way, why am I the only one who gives a damn about your education? This is freshman English...it's only going to get harder. And, if you hate it now, how much do you think you're going to like it next year? I'll let you in on a big secret here: it will be the SAME class! Pretty sure it's not going to be any better for you the second time around. Do us both a favor and just do your own homework. Copying someone else's paper will earn you both a zero, and you won't learn a blessed thing. If you do decide to copy someone else's paper, do me another favor and don't copy it exactly. Change it up a little. If you don't, it's an insult to my intelligence. Did you think I wouldn't notice you copied when you chose to copy from some dweeb who wrote about a personal pizza rather than a personal essay? C'mon, that's actually more embarrassing for you (the EIGHT kids who copied) than the person who made the original mistake.
Oh, and I have used the internet once or twice before...if you don't write your essay and you get it off the internet, do you think I won't know? Do you think I'll believe that the essay fairy came and left you some writing ability under your pillow one night? Get real. I'm not as dumb as you think I am, and trust me, you're not as smart as you think you are. I'll pit my two college degrees against your three quarters of high school any day, punk. I will find your essay the exact same way you did: Google. And, I'll find it faster than you did, because I am smarter than you and I don't have to search a topic...I'm searching for a specific document. And if I can't find the essay using Google, Mr. Hocking can. It's like a game for him, we call it "Catch the dummy who cheated because he/she thinks Mrs. Hocking isn't as smart as he/she is." Mrs. Hocking and her internet savvy husband will win that game...every time we play. You aren't going to like the consequences when you lose. Neither will your parents. Even if they insist that you are a perfect angel and can do no wrong, I know the truth, and so do you.
I think you will find that I am not unreasonable. In fact, I care about you more than most of your other teachers. I will listen if you have a problem, and I will do my best to help you solve / fix it. I will cry with you, I will laugh with you, and I will appreciate who you are. If you have to use the bathroom, just ask. It's not that I think you need to have permission to use the bathroom, it's that I am responsible for your well being the entire time you are in my class, and I have to know where you are. If, however, you are in my fifth hour class and you come to my room right after lunch and ask to use the rest room EVERY DAY for almost a quarter, and then I find out from your sixth hour teacher that you are going to the bathroom EVERY DAY in his class too, you can count on me making a phone call to the nurse. She's going to call you in and discuss your apparent bladder problem, and will call your parents to verify that you are indeed telling the truth when you say you don't have a problem. Then, don't bother to ask again for the rest of the year unless it's an emergency. Because while it's my general policy to let you go whenever you need to, you've burned your bridges and I don't believe that you really have to go. Besides, you just came in from lunch. Stop talking to your girlfriend two minutes early and just take care of business before you come to class.
Honestly, I do love you, but right now, I'm having a hard time liking you. Let's change that. When you get a teaching certificate, you can be in charge, but until then, that's my job.
Love,
The woman who is too young for gray hairs and hates all the BS
Contrary to popular belief, I AM the one in charge. That means when I open my mouth to speak, you close yours. When I tell you to do something, you do it. When the bell rings, you put away your cell phone and your iPod, and you do NOT take it out again until the next bell rings. Don't touch each other. If it's not yours, don't take it. If you borrow something, for pete's sake, return it in the same condition you got it, don't break it intentionally. If you choose to goof off and don't get your work done, don't come complaining to me; I'm not your mommy. If you make a mess, you clean it up. I'm not your maid.
I dismiss you, not the bell. That means you don't pack up your bags and stand by the door five minutes early. Because, no, you can not leave early. Frankly, I don't care that the teacher across the hall lets his class go early almost every day. Face it, those kids have a cooler teacher than you do. I'm okay with it, you should be too.
This is English class. You're going to read, whether you like it or not. You are in 9th grade, now, and you have graduated from Dr. Seuss and Goosebumps. It's time to read "big girl / boy" books. I promise you that reading will not kill you. It may hurt your brain a bit at first, but all muscles get sore when you exercise them after long periods of not using them. Read a bit more, and I bet it'll quit hurting. Using your brain is the only way to get smarter. Consider the reading I assign exercise.
By the way, why am I the only one who gives a damn about your education? This is freshman English...it's only going to get harder. And, if you hate it now, how much do you think you're going to like it next year? I'll let you in on a big secret here: it will be the SAME class! Pretty sure it's not going to be any better for you the second time around. Do us both a favor and just do your own homework. Copying someone else's paper will earn you both a zero, and you won't learn a blessed thing. If you do decide to copy someone else's paper, do me another favor and don't copy it exactly. Change it up a little. If you don't, it's an insult to my intelligence. Did you think I wouldn't notice you copied when you chose to copy from some dweeb who wrote about a personal pizza rather than a personal essay? C'mon, that's actually more embarrassing for you (the EIGHT kids who copied) than the person who made the original mistake.
Oh, and I have used the internet once or twice before...if you don't write your essay and you get it off the internet, do you think I won't know? Do you think I'll believe that the essay fairy came and left you some writing ability under your pillow one night? Get real. I'm not as dumb as you think I am, and trust me, you're not as smart as you think you are. I'll pit my two college degrees against your three quarters of high school any day, punk. I will find your essay the exact same way you did: Google. And, I'll find it faster than you did, because I am smarter than you and I don't have to search a topic...I'm searching for a specific document. And if I can't find the essay using Google, Mr. Hocking can. It's like a game for him, we call it "Catch the dummy who cheated because he/she thinks Mrs. Hocking isn't as smart as he/she is." Mrs. Hocking and her internet savvy husband will win that game...every time we play. You aren't going to like the consequences when you lose. Neither will your parents. Even if they insist that you are a perfect angel and can do no wrong, I know the truth, and so do you.
I think you will find that I am not unreasonable. In fact, I care about you more than most of your other teachers. I will listen if you have a problem, and I will do my best to help you solve / fix it. I will cry with you, I will laugh with you, and I will appreciate who you are. If you have to use the bathroom, just ask. It's not that I think you need to have permission to use the bathroom, it's that I am responsible for your well being the entire time you are in my class, and I have to know where you are. If, however, you are in my fifth hour class and you come to my room right after lunch and ask to use the rest room EVERY DAY for almost a quarter, and then I find out from your sixth hour teacher that you are going to the bathroom EVERY DAY in his class too, you can count on me making a phone call to the nurse. She's going to call you in and discuss your apparent bladder problem, and will call your parents to verify that you are indeed telling the truth when you say you don't have a problem. Then, don't bother to ask again for the rest of the year unless it's an emergency. Because while it's my general policy to let you go whenever you need to, you've burned your bridges and I don't believe that you really have to go. Besides, you just came in from lunch. Stop talking to your girlfriend two minutes early and just take care of business before you come to class.
Honestly, I do love you, but right now, I'm having a hard time liking you. Let's change that. When you get a teaching certificate, you can be in charge, but until then, that's my job.
Love,
The woman who is too young for gray hairs and hates all the BS
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Just the way that I am
Martina McBride sings a great song: "My Baby Loves me Just the Way That I Am" Whenever I hear this song, I think of J.
Don't need no copy of Vogue magazine
Don't need to dress like no Beauty Queen
High heels or sneakers, he don’t give a damn
My baby loves me just the way that I am
My baby loves me just the way that I am
He never tells me I'm not good enough
Just gives me unconditional love
He loves me tender and he loves me mad
He loves me silly and he loves me sad
Chorus:
He thinks I'm pretty, he thinks I'm smart
He likes my nerve and he loves my heart
He's always sayin' he's my biggest fan
My baby loves me just the way that I am
My baby loves me just the way that I am
When there's dark clouds in my eyes
He just sits back and lets 'em roll on by
Come in like a lion go out like a lamb
My baby loves me just the way that I am
My baby loves me just the way that I am
He thinks I'm pretty, he thinks I'm smart
He likes my nerve and he loves my heart
Don't see no reason to change my plan
My baby loves me just the way that I am
My baby loves me just the way that I am
He loves me when I'm cute.
He loves me when I'm not.
He loves me when I'm being obnoxious.
He loves me when I'm being goofy. (Mom and I were playing Charlie's Angels on her birthday a few years ago in the first picture, and in the second I'm mini golfing with my club upside down.)
He loves me when I'm being weird. (I took pictures at the car wash...)
He loves me when I'm silly.
He loves me, imperfections and all. (Those I was born with, like the birthmark in my right eye, and those I received along the way, like the scratches from my cat Sid.)
He loves me even after he's seen lovely pictures like this.
He loves me even when I don't feel very loveable or attractive.
I know that J loves me...just the way that I am.
Don't need no copy of Vogue magazine
Don't need to dress like no Beauty Queen
High heels or sneakers, he don’t give a damn
My baby loves me just the way that I am
My baby loves me just the way that I am
He never tells me I'm not good enough
Just gives me unconditional love
He loves me tender and he loves me mad
He loves me silly and he loves me sad
Chorus:
He thinks I'm pretty, he thinks I'm smart
He likes my nerve and he loves my heart
He's always sayin' he's my biggest fan
My baby loves me just the way that I am
My baby loves me just the way that I am
When there's dark clouds in my eyes
He just sits back and lets 'em roll on by
Come in like a lion go out like a lamb
My baby loves me just the way that I am
My baby loves me just the way that I am
He thinks I'm pretty, he thinks I'm smart
He likes my nerve and he loves my heart
Don't see no reason to change my plan
My baby loves me just the way that I am
My baby loves me just the way that I am
He loves me when I'm cute.
He loves me when I'm not.He loves me when I'm scared.
He loves me when I'm being obnoxious.
He loves me when I'm being goofy. (Mom and I were playing Charlie's Angels on her birthday a few years ago in the first picture, and in the second I'm mini golfing with my club upside down.)
He loves me when I'm being weird. (I took pictures at the car wash...)
He loves me when I'm silly.
He loves me, imperfections and all. (Those I was born with, like the birthmark in my right eye, and those I received along the way, like the scratches from my cat Sid.)
He loves me even after he's seen lovely pictures like this.
He loves me even when I don't feel very loveable or attractive.
I know that J loves me...just the way that I am.
A picture's worth a thousand words
I love this picture of J and his mom. When we were about to get married, I asked Marilyn for childhood pictures of J that we could use as decoration around the reception. That was a fun afternoon. I sat down with J's mom and sisters, and we pored through their old photo albums looking for good photos.
I was struck by several things when we came across this photo:
1. J was HUGE!!
2. Marilyn was YOUNG! (And so cute!)
3. J has obviously been swimming or playing in water of some sort.
4. J does not look happy.
Marilyn paused when she saw this picture, and she smiled. I asked her to tell me about the picture. She reminisced about the hot summers in Texas where J grew up. She talked about how he loved to play in the water in the back yard. She often had a hard time getting him out of the water and dried off. J loved to play. It was sweet story.
Then she laughed, and said, "But this picture?? This was taken about 10 seconds before the little shit turned and bit me on the shoulder!"
Kind of makes you look at the picture a little differently, huh?
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